


strawberry cheesecake

by femkilljoy



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: (not vore), Accidental Voyeurism, Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Come Eating, Crowley Has Long Hair (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Eating Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Masturbation, Penis In Vagina Sex, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-21 06:28:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21070394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/femkilljoy/pseuds/femkilljoy
Summary: it was sinful, really, the way he ate. Aziraphale ate like every bite caused him physical pleasure and like he couldn’t just help but make those small but noticeable moans every time he swallowed. who could blame Crowley for imagining him doing other things with his mouth and making those exact same noises?





	strawberry cheesecake

Crowley just couldn’t help himself. he had been staring rivetedly at Aziraphale all throughout dinner (like he usually did), drinking in his content and pleased sighs as Aziraphale (in the politest way, because Aziraphale was anything but rude or messy) devoured first the appetizer, then his dinner, and lastly his dessert. 

the dessert had been the worst; Aziraphale had ordered a rich slice of strawberry cheesecake, topped with a strawberry sauce and a heavy dollop of whipped cream. Aziraphale had eaten it slowly, taking ridiculously small bites. Crowley was drunk on the smooth movements of Aziraphale’s mouth, the way Aziraphale pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth and teased the flavors out of each bite, swallowing deeply and moaning in the back of his throat and licking his lips to catch any stray crumbs.

it wasn’t a secret (to Crowley, at least) that watching Aziraphale eat turned Crowley on. it was something he came to terms with a long time ago, because he knew that human bodies were simultaneously complicated and simple when it came to sex. who wouldn’t be attracted to the way Aziraphale ate? it was sinful, really, the way he ate. Aziraphale ate like every bite caused him physical pleasure and like he couldn’t just help but make those small but noticeable moans every time he swallowed. who could blame Crowley for imagining him doing other things with his mouth and making those exact same noises? who could blame him for wanting more?

Aziraphale finished his cheesecake with a low groan that reverberated right to Crowley’s cock, which had been painfully hard for the past hour or so. this was the reason he found himself always leaning forward in his chair and resting his head on his chin during meals; leaning over hid his shameful erection, made obvious by his tight jeans. he really should stop wearing such tight trousers when he was around Aziraphale, but he’d be damned if he changed the way he dressed just because everything Aziraphale did turned him on. 

this had been the longest meal of Crowley’s 6,000-year life, which included the meal of crepes and brioche that he shared with Aziraphale in 1793 and the meal they had at the Ritz after both narrowly escaping their respective punishments for treason. they spent nearly three hours at the Ritz; Crowley watched Aziraphale eat four courses and drink four glasses of wine. Crowley drove Aziraphale back to the bookshop, where they both drank a bottle of wine each and ended up falling asleep next to each other on the couch.

now, Crowley has never driven faster. once Aziraphale finished his dessert, Crowley paid the bill with a wave of his hand and escorted Aziraphale out to the car. Aziraphale, stubbornly still not used to the intense recklessness of Crowley’s driving, miracled a handle to the top of the Bentley’s interior ceiling and holds tightly to it the whole way. when they arrive at the bookshop, Crowley quickly excuses himself to the restroom upstairs; he shuts the door behind him and sits down on the toilet.

his hands are immediately at his waistband, unzipping his jeans and shoving them down to his knees. he braces himself briefly with a hand on the sink next to him, his hand grasping at the curve of the bowl as he grabs his cock and starts to jerk himself off. Crowley muffles his groans into the bite of his fist at the image of Aziraphale’s lips closing around the curve of his soup spoon. his tongue had poked out so briefly to catch the drop of soup that had slid down the curve of his bottom lip. Crowley’s entire body grows hot, a red flush spreading from his face to this cock. he pumps his hand faster, tightening his grip and smoothing his thumb over the liberal dribble of pre-come that came out at the thought of Aziraphale’s tongue doing the same thing to his cock.

he could just imagine what it would feel like. Aziraphale would slowly swirl his tongue (the way Crowley has seen him do to a lolly before) around the head of Crowley’s cock and let it slide into the warmth of his mouth. then, he would gently suck it, letting his lips close around his shaft to pull it deeper into his mouth until it hit the back of his throat. Aziraphale’s eyes would flutter shut; he groans as Crowley fucks his mouth gently. he wouldn’t do it too hard (unless Aziraphale asked him to), just enough to draw those sweet, sinful moans out of him, the noises vibrating throughout Crowley’s entire body.

his hand is moving faster on his cock. his cock gets harder and twitches; Crowley knows he’s not far from coming. his legs spread wider, held against the confines of his jeans. his toes flex inside his shoes, and he throws his head back, unable to stop the groan he lets out as his mind replays the way Aziraphale ate his cheesecake tonight. he would give anything to have been that spoon. 

he can’t help groaning a little louder, trusting that Aziraphale couldn’t hear him all the way downstairs. with a final groan of Aziraphale’s name under his breath, Crowley comes into the grasp of his fist. opening his eyes and catching his breath, he sucks the come off of his fingers and wipes the rest off in a handful of toilet paper. he lifts his head, bracing his feet and getting ready to stand-

Aziraphale, red-faced, stands in the doorway of the bathroom, his hand tight on the doorknob. Crowley stares at Aziraphale, his mouth dropping open and his hand grasped tight around the soiled toilet paper. 

“Aziraphale-” he tries to say but is cut off by Aziraphale swinging around and shutting the door behind him, leaving Crowley sitting on the toilet with his cock still out. Crowley steels himself for standing and wiggling back into his pants. he runs a hand through his hair, smoothing it down and re-parting it back into a side-part. 

his steps are obnoxiously loud coming down the wooden steps of the bookshop.

**Author's Note:**

> hi guys. i just realized i haven't posted anything in like two months and i apologize to those of you that had been waiting for new content. this story has been in my drafts for over a month now and instead of pushing myself to post everything all at once, i decided to divide it into chapters to give myself more time. 
> 
> requests and prompts are open. kudos and comments are definitely welcome. please give me comments; they validate me and encourage me to write more :)


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